Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian is a famous artist. He draws self-portraits. But it is not his awesome drawing skill that makes him have a three year waiting list to book his service. There are plenty of artists who are better than him.
It is his supernatural ability.
When he touches someone, he can see the reflection of that person in his happiest moment, seen through the eyes of someone who had loved that person most in their previous life.
The emotions are perfectly captured in his art, which makes people happy because they were truly loved in their previous lives
This gives them hope in love.
It also means that Wei Wuxian rejects clients from time to time, saying that this is their first life and thus he can't draw their portraits.
Sometimes, this is the case, but mostly, these people were not loved in their previous lives.
Or loved, but never happy.
Such is the case with the famous Mr. Lan Xichen, the CEO of Lan Enterprise, who has waited to be drawn by Wei Wuxian for 2 years.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lan. This is your first life," he says politely to the older gentleman. He tries not to make it sound like a recording since he has said this line too often.
"I prefer you don't lie to me, Mr. Wei," Lan Xichen bitterly chuckles. "I prefer you tell me whether I was never loved or whether I was not happy."
Wei Wuxian looks at him, a solemn smile adorning his face. "Does it make a difference? In this life, you can get both: love and happiness."
He smiles sadly. "What if I was still the old me? Who doesn't dare to love? Or who doesn't fight for my happiness?"
Wei Wuxian doesn't know where he gets the courage, but he feels a strong feeling of brotherly affection toward the sad man and wants to reminds him that this time, he can still fight for a better future.
"Mr. Lan, I am not the wisest man, but why don't we just assume that those were the cases?
That you were not brave enough to take a chance on love?
That you turned coward when asked to sacrifice for love?
And that you were given a second chance?"
"What if I make the same mistake?" He is a CEO, meaning he calculated every move and its expected outcomes.
Wei Wuxian understands that he is afraid of failing. He made excuses to protect himself. Wei Wuxian has learned before that excuses lead you nowhere.
Lan Xichen needs a little push.
"Now that you know you failed your chance of being happy and loved in your previous life, will you take more risks?"
Lan Xichen sighs. A smart man like him should understand Wei Wuxian's subtle warning.
He stands up, ready to leave the CEO's home. "You don't have to pay me. I apologize for crushing your hope."
"Wait, Mr. Wei… Can you take a look at my brother? He is lonely; I hope that was not the case in his previous life.
I hope he was truly loved and happy. But if he wasn't, I hope your wisdom will move him as much as it did me."
Wei Wuxian nods, not many people request the same thing. These people who were incapable of loving or being happy, were usually selfish. They did not have someone important enough in their lives to take over the rare booked slot.
Some people knew their lives suck, and thus avoided seeing others' happiness, especially when they had waited for long only to be disappointed.
This is not the case with Lan Xichen.
"You are a good man," Wei Wuxian gently praises. "Go find your love and chase your happiness, Mr. Lan."
"You are a good man, too, Mr. Wei, and a wise one. Have you ever checked your own life before?"
He gets asked this question often.
"I can't see my own," he smiles.
It is the truth.
But he was never braved enough to venture the reasons behind it. Is it because this is his first life? Is it because he was not loved? Is it because he was loved but not happy?
He is a hypocrite. He gives advice to people, yet he doesn't chase his own happiness, isn't brave enough to find love.
Lan Xichen seems to see through him, that gaze turns into pity.
There is a subtle knock on the door, and in comes a person who looks so similar to Lan Xichen.
His heart thuds at the sight of that ethereal person, as if it recognizes him.
"Gege, are you alright?" The brother asks, his face devoid of expression. But he can't deceive Wei Wuxian; that question alone proves how close and loving the two brothers are.
"Don't worry so much, Wangji. This is my first life," he soothes his brother.
Lan Xichen turns to him, "This is Lan Wangji, my younger brother."
"Wei Wuxian," he says, offering his hand for a shake.
The man freezes, looking at his extended hand with wariness.
There is an obvious hesitation in the younger Lan's cold, golden eyes.
Wei Wuxian understands.
His touch is only meant for those who are ready to acknowledge the past.
Not everyone is willing to take the risk.
Wei Wuxian drops his hand, smiling, and grabs his sling bag. "Nice meeting you, Mr. Lan Wangji. Well, Mr. Lan Xichen, I think it's a cue for me to leave."
He pauses, saying his last wish for the older Lan. "I can see that you are truly loved. You deserve that happiness."
He excuses himself, about to pass Lan Wangji when the taller man suddenly moves his fingers slightly, brushing them against Wei Wuxian's hand.
A current of electricity runs from that simple touch to the rest of his body.
His eyes become blurry, as if he is being transferred back in time.
The vision shows a figure who is smiling solemnly, a radiant figure in a white ancient robe, with golden ambers looking so soft and full of love in his happiest moment, a vision so mesmerizing, that it takes Wei Wuxian's breath away.
In those eyes he sees a reflection of the person who saw all of this, the source of his happiness, a man in black, smiling so brilliantly.
A face he recognizes.
A face he sees in the mirror every day.
But never so beautiful.
Wei Wuxian wishes he stays in that moment forever, being so loved, being someone's source of happiness.
But when he returns, he is looking at the same face—not cold, but confused, scared, and hopeful.
He can feel the tears flowing freely from his face, his heart thundering at the revelation that in his previous life.
Someone loved him.
Someone was happy because of him.
"Lan Zhan, you were truly loved," he whispers as he drops his bag and caresses that face, beaming at this person who was the source of his happiness a long, long time ago.
"As was I."
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